The Starcraft Chronicles
by The Wandering Author
Summary: The events that took place in the Starcraft storyline as I wanted to see it.  This is the First chapter.
1. Chapter 1

"We're being overrun!" Sarah Kerrigan shouted into her NepConX250 attached to her utility helmet.

A few moments of deafening battle ensued, the vicious creatures beginning to break through their first line of defense. By god, how many of them were there, she thought to herself? Bunkers crumbled, tanks went haywire. People died. So many people died, she watched in amazement and horror.

"Requesting immediate Dropship assistance," she then said into her radio, now a bit calmer than before.

A sloshing growl echoed to her immediate right. She whipped her head around to see one of _them _headed straight for her, in a full run. The C10-Canister Special seemed to aim itself as she fired it at the creature. The finger sized bullet punctured the thing right between it's red eyes. It staggered from side to side for a few gruesome moments as black blood shot out the wound, then lied on the steel floor.

Kerrigan turned back around to the heart of the battle. They were losing. Fast. A marine no more than twenty yards from her fell over dead as a kind of crystallized mass of organic matter punched into his armor and tore at his flesh.

"Guys?" she said with a tone of desperation in her radio, "how about that assistance?"

She listened. No voice came out of the speaker end. No reassuring words that help was on the way.

More and more of their enemy poured into their front lines; they slowly working their way through gunfire and explosive shot. The battle seemed to slow to a painful pace as she watched it. She also noticed painful details. The giants of their enemies, known as Ultralisks, plowed through building after building, their gargantuan tusks ripping through iron, concrete and steel as if it was wax paper. She looked to her left quickly, her hair flowing in front of her face. Dozens of the smaller Hydralisks stood in random formation, aiming their heads and spitting highly corrosive acids at whatever they could. The chemicals in the acid could dissolve the firmest of armor and the sturdiest of weaponry. Accompanying them were the even smaller Zerglings. They were only about the size of a dog, but their sharpened claws and fangs made up for their small statue.

She could only watch in amazement and terror as their enemy, known only as the Zerg, toppled structure after structure. Gunshots rang, cannons ignited, people screamed. She looked briefly to the sky. No Dropships. The last of their defense is all that remained; they weren't going to hold out much longer. Kerrigan fired a few shots at some close enemies; her lengthy observation moments before lasting only a few moments.

"Jim? Arcturus? What the hell is going on up there?" she breathed into the transmitter, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

Still, nothing. Fear began to pang at her spine as she now saw their very last line of defense broken. Still, she fought alongside her fellow Terrans even as the monstrosities poured into the heart of their base camp. As Sarah shot again and again she began realizing something. The Zerg were completely ignoring her. Even as she fired upon one of the towering Ultralisks, of whom could rip her to shreds with just one effort, merely ignored her and attacked other things.

Building after Terran building fell before the overwhelming masses of their enemies. Finally, as the Command Center went down, it was just Sarah, a squad of four marines and a maintenance worker known as an SCV. They were completely surrounded. The Zerg took no extra time and quickly advanced on them. The SCV was the first to go. A small group of Hydralisks all aimed and shot their destructive spit at the machine, it immediately breaking down and the poor man inside left only to burn to death. They all fired their weapons, but to no avail. When one of them would fall, ten more would rise to take its place. An Ultralisk shot out what looked like a double pronged tongue from somewhere under it's tusks and grabbed a hold of two of the squad, their kicking and screaming bodies eventually being lost to whatever fate they befell. She cringed as she heard the crunching sounds of the thing chewing her comrades.

"Lieutenant!" the marine to her left shouted over the gunfire of their rifles, "there is no way out for the three of us."

She looked at him curiously as the Zerg rampaged on toward them.

"But there might be a chance for you," he said.

He dug into a compartment on the outer part of his armor. He handed her two syringes.

"Take one now!" he said, "Stim Packs. The only way you'll have the guts or the speed to get the hell out of here!"

He looked at her with cold gray eyes. She wished she could thank him somehow, for this daring act. Both her and he knew that he was going to die, right along with his comrade. They were willing to sacrifice themselves so that she could live.

"Do it now!" he screamed.

She obeyed, quickly shoving one of the vials into a compartment for safekeeping and taking the remaining one in her hand. Without any delay, she took the cap off of the needle and jammed it into her arm, pushing the yellowish liquid into her bloodstream. Her senses immediately sharpened many fold, almost to the point of a painful caliber. Her body felt lighter, somehow, like she could move with greater ease.

"There!" the marine said, his voice sounding piercing in her head, "a hole!"

He gestured to an area behind them, a few Zerglings being the only thing between her and escape. Freedom.

Both marines turned and fired at the weakened flank, the small Zerglings collapsing in pools of blood. Kerrigan wasted no time. She took off for the makeshift exit in the wall of enemies, before they could notice what was happening. Suddenly however, just as she had reached the hole, a Hydralisk sprang up in front of her, its orange tinted eyes boring into her. She quickly dragged her foot back ward and kicked the beast hard in its middle. It fell over with a frenzied scream, Kerrigan stepping on it on her path to escape. She then felt strong forces latch onto both of her arms and her back. She fought against the hold on her, the drugs circulating through her body combined with raw adrenaline mixing together to give her godly strength. She felt claws rip and tear at her armor and clothing underneath, acid burning her skin.

With one final muster of strength, she ripped free of the force holding her and ran as fast as she could. She heard screams and the rickety sounds of pursuit behind her, it spurring on her flee all the more. She felt herself run at unparalleled speeds, the ground feeling numb underneath her. At last, she thought, she was out of sight of those dreaded Overlords. The ones that could easily see her with their piercing eyes every time she activated her cloaking mechanism. She immediately brought her wrist out in front of her and jammed her fist down on the button. Once it had commenced, she took a hard right down a steel path that led to a larger platform, built by some unknown contractor somewhere in space. She felt bits and hunks of her armor slide off of her from her encounter and fall clattering to the floor, they running the risk of giving her away. She prayed that the hardware controlling her cloaking device remain in tact.

She took another right and ducked behind a corner of a large man-made wall. She pressed her back to the cold steel, her rising and falling chest the only company as she tentatively peeked around the side. They were gone. She had won.

Sarah would have celebrated had she not felt two things at that time. First, she hurt. A lot. She took her back away from the wall to see her own blood streaked across it; probably claw wounds from the relentless Zerg. Second, she was cold. She clicked off the cloaking to see that most of her armor had either broken off of her, or was too torn to hold in heat or protect her. With some effort and painful frustration of moving her injured body, she removed all the broken armor; her two combat boots, a functional steel belt and her right arm segment were the only pieces of her suit that weren't clawed, broken or burned by acid. Her clothing underneath wasn't too much better. Although most of her thick, woolen leggings survived, the standard issue insulating tunic she had on for warmth was mostly shredded. She took the tunic off and tore off what she could use and covered herself the best she could, being sure to wrap her injuries tightly. As she finished, Sarah leaned once again against the steel wall, her breath now starting to slow.

She huddled there, trying her best to gain as much warmth on this chilly platform as she could. Bruised, cold, burned and half naked, but still alive, Kerrigan sat and waited. For a sign, perhaps. For help.


	2. Chapter 2

He slammed his gloved fist down on the control panel of The Hyperion in a frustrated rage. He quickly clicked a switch on the panel, to patch a message in for his superior, Arcturus Mengsk. The screen was black; he was not letting him through.

"Sarah," he mouthed her name, it seeming to leave him dull and without feeling.

As if answering his call, a face crackled in the viewing monitor of the Hyperion's console.

"Gentlemen, you have done very well," the smiling face of Arcturus began, "but remember we still have a job to do. The seeds of a new empire have been sewn."

Jim furrowed his brow and chewed on the inside of his lower lip in anger.

"And if we hope to reap what we-"

"To hell with you!" he shouted into the microphone, his emotion overcoming his judgment.

At this, he furrowed his brow.

"You are making a terrible mistake, Marshal, don't even _think _to cross me!" he replied with an acidic voice, "I have sacrificed too much to let this fall apart."

"You mean like you sacrificed Kerrigan?" Jim quickly shot back, "and all those men on Tarsonis carrying out _your _orders?"

"Enough!" Mengsk snapped into his microphone.

He was silent for a moment. He took a deep sigh, seeming to want to be as calm as possible.

"You will regret that," he said, an odd smile creeping up his mouth, "you don't seem to realize your situation here. I will _not _be stopped. Not by you, or the Confederacy, or the Protoss, or anyone!"

Mengsk wasn't finished speaking, but Jim flipped his communication monitor off the same. He had heard enough.

He revved up the power on his ship and broke away from Mengsk's battalion. They would not shoot at him; he knew it would mean a bad reputation to have a Marshal of the Terran race killed by his command. Kerrigan was different, he thought to himself, she was just a Ghost. A guinea pig of bio-technological engineering. She would not be missed by many.

Another person came into view on his monitor. It was the face of his commander.

"Marshal, intelligence tells me that in order to escape this sector cleanly, we will need to break through the Confederate forces stationed in this area. Their primary weapon, called an Ion Cannon, must be put off line."

He grinned at the man looking back at him in the monitor. At least he had the support of his superior, he thought to himself.

"Roger," Jim answered back, "we'll be out of here before you know it."

What was he escaping to do anyway? Kerrigan was dead, Mengsk has all but become to next dictator, and the Zerg overran many of their homeworlds. He shook his head. He had to, somehow, put an end to what Mengsk was doing (or undoing) in Terran worlds and destroy the Zerg infestation.

He clicked a few switches on the panel for decent onto the small platform that harbored the Ion Cannon. As the Hyperion came closer to touching down, he reached for his rifle and stood from his chair.

"Damn it!" he said to himself before leaving, "I shouldn't have let her go alone."

Night had settled on the platform where Sarah Kerrigan was struggling with life. She had fled the Zerg successfully, but she faced even a greater challenge before her; surviving a long, heat less night. She shivered uncontrollably and pulled her legs in closer to herself. She probably wasn't going to make it, she thought to herself. Nights in space could last anywhere from three minutes to months. Despite her current situation, she smiled. She had successfully eluded an entire army of enraged, monstrous creatures, just to die from something as trivial as cold. If only her space suit was still in tact, she thought to herself.

Then, thinking about it, she reached into a compartment on her leg plate and pulled out the remaining Stim Pack, the one the marine had given to her. She eyed the liquid inside the glass syringe. Maybe it would give her some warmth? It had sped up her reflexes for a short while before, her mind answered back. It wasn't as if she had much of an alternative.

She took the plastic cap off the tip, exposing the needle. She was just about to jab it into herself when something stopped her. It was a light in the sky. She placed the syringe carefully on the ground and shakily stood to observe the strange glow. Although it started out faint, it grew steadily with intensity. As it grew closer, she could make out a dark outline. It was a ship, and it was headed straight for her! She grinned happily as she began waving down her savior. Finally, the Dropships had arrived.

As it approached, however, she saw that it was not any ship that could be built by Terran's hands. She quickly stopped her actions and fear panged at her spine when the realization had struck her. It was a Protoss shuttle. The Protoss, the ones that they were put here to fight and exterminate. They would no doubt not be keen on helping one that killed their race.

She heard it's engine draw close; she had to find somewhere to hide. It had probably already spotted her, and was coming in for the kill. Shuttles carried with them mighty Protoss warriors, bent on defending their beloved homelands. She looked around desperately for something, anything, to take cover behind. Seeing no other possible solution, she went for the wall behind the platform which she had rested against. That is, she would have done such a thing had her legs not shakily given out on her and she fell to the ground with a loud grunt. She tried to get back to her feet, but her vision blurred and an acute dizziness clouded her mind. She was at her limit; running from the Zerg, using the double edged sword drug of the Stim Pack, having wounds festering without proper treatment, the cold, they all sapping her of any remaining strength she had left.

She quietly laid back down on the ground, her eyes looking drowsily up at the encroaching shuttle. She accepted her fate. It was a pity those marines saved her so she could die by the hands of the Protoss, she thought to herself. Psi blades, the weaponry the infantry of their enemy race wielded, floated into her head. She saw them cut through men before; back on the battlefield against them. Would they cut her the same way? If so, would they give her a quick death, or take it painfully slow and let life slip away at a snail's pace?

The shuttle had landed, not thirty yards from her collapsed body. There was no fighting it, she said to herself, just let them capture her and kill her. That was the best she could hope for.

She heard footsteps approach her; heavy, well armored steps. Steps of warriors. Killers. She saw one figure, then two standing over her, looking down at her with glowing orange eyes. She blacked out then, her body apparently giving her the courtesy of not experiencing death's sting.


	3. Chapter 3

With the Ion Cannon destroyed and the Confederate forces in the area defeated, Jim returned to the Hyperion. He walked through the ship and eventually settled himself back into the cockpit, taking his ship and the remainder of his fleet still loyal to both him and the commander and speeding past the rubble of the bases below them. As they left the orbit of the space station, he clicked his ship on cruise control, set a course for one of the thirteen Terran worlds (he picked one at random, Verit-something) and programmed intelligence to wake him when they arrived.

With that, he relayed the message to his commander and retired to his quarters. He quickly removed his armor and fell back into the bed. Sleep took him quickly; he had not rested since they deployed on the space platform.

_Jim? _A voice rang in his head.

It was a calming sound; a soft, feminine voice. He looked around for the source. He was in the middle of a kind of purplish haze.

_Jim! _The voice said again, much more urgent.

Something suddenly materialized before him; an odd egg-like object. It was his height, a pulsing and brooding motion resounding from it.

_Help me Jim _the voice now said.

He realized that it was coming from inside this thing! He also recognized the voice; it was Sarah. He noticed the horrid Zerg all around him, surrounding him and watching his every movement. His eyes darted around for a few tense moments, then looked back to the egg.

_Please, help me! _The voice called out urgently.

He instinctively pounded his fists on the slimy walls of the thing. It wouldn't break.

_Help me Jim _she repeated _I am on Tarsonis. The Zerg have me here._

"What?" he asked breathlessly, "you're alive?"

_Please free me _she said, sounding weaker _Tarsonis..._

He snapped awake and quickly sat up. He rubbed his face for a moment. Could it be true? Could Sarah still be alive and taken captive by the Zerg?

He immediately shot to his feet and sat back into the cockpit of the Hyperion. He requested an immediate communication with his commander. His face blipped to life on the monitor.

"Commander, this may sound strange," he began as he slowed his ship to a halt, "but I request that this fleet go back to Tarsonis."

"What?" his commander said in shock to his statement, "how can we even consider that?"

"I know it's a long shot, but Kerrigan was a telepath. She could send messages across time and space, directly into someone's mind. I think she may have contacted me just recently."

"Even if she had done such a thing, going back to the Zerg infested Tarsonis would be suicide!" he shouted in retaliation.

"Look, whatever happens to these men, it will be on my head," he shot back to the commander, "if we are overrun, I will renounce my duty and turn myself in."

He took a small pause.

"If we can scrap any of what Arcturs did, it will only serve to weaken his hold on the Terran race, " he continued on, "even if it is one thing."

He knew that he wasn't revealing the full truth to his commander. He wanted to rescue Sarah for reasons other that she was an excellent fighter and commanding asset to their cause. He had feelings for her.

"Alright, marshal," the commander finally said with a sigh, "you may lead your men to Tarsonis."

"Thank you, commander," he said to him, "Raynor out."

He made a complete turn around with his ship.

"Alright boys," he then said into another microphone, "changing course. We still got a bit of fighting to do before we head home."

He sat back in his chair as he set the Hyperion's engines to full throttle, back towards Tarsonis. To Kerrigan.

Sarah felt something cold touch her injured skin. She twitched and tried to lay on her back, but something forced her back down. The cold feeling ached up her spine once again. She grumbled, then groaned in pain, her body returning to reality slowly. Again, the freezing sensation hit her, this time much more powerfully. It caused her to suck in air through her teeth and clench her hands into fists as she finally opened her eyes. She found herself to be lying in a bed on her stomach. She cried out slightly as the mix of freezing and pain struck her back, now for the fourth time. This caused her to turn her head, her eyes shooting open in fear. A Protoss was sitting next to her, it soaking a cloth into some cloudy liquid. She tried to prop herself up, but her own weakness forced her back down.

"Be still, Terran," the Protoss said to her in a womanly voice, "you are not ready for such activity yet."

Her racing heart and ragged breath began to slow as she looked into the Protoss' eyes. She did not harbor any expression of hatred or the desire to kill as Sarah had once thought. Instead, only concern and kindness resonated through those glowing orbs.

"Who are you?" she finally asked the woman.

"My name is Wrynn," she replied, "one of the medicinal servitors here."

"Where is here?" Sarah further inquired as she looked about the small room.

She clamped her eyes closed as Wrynn had pressed another liquid filled cloth onto her back. It stung, but at the same time it soothed.

"We are on the Protoss ship known as the Gantrithor," she answered back, "Tassadar is the pilot."

Kerrigan had heard of the mighty Tassadar before. He was a great, yet misunderstood hero amongst the Protoss; committing act after selfless act for his own people and for their homeland.

"Why am I here?" she inquired further, her tired and blurry eyes attempting to scan some of the area she was currently held in.

Wrynn made such an expression that, if Protoss beings had mouths, she would be smiling.

"I don't mean to be callous," she began as her glowing irises were trained on Sarah, "but our ways of dealing with war are not like those of Terran. We fight only as necessary, and care for the injured, no matter the race."

"You would care for the Zerg?" Kerrigan almost shouted at her.

She immediately felt foolish for saying such a thing; criticizing how these people carried on their buisness.

"If Zerg were capable of such feelings as remorse or sorrow, we would," Wrynn answered back, "but after they had eradicated our homeland of Auir, we found little of anything resembling emotion in them. Had we not found you upon that platform, you would have fallen to their clawed hands, would you not?"

That, or the extreme cold, Kerrigan thought to herself quickly.

"Yes," she recovered, "I thank you for saving my life-"

Her sentence was cut short as she let out a small cry of pain as Wrynn had placed another liquid-soaked cloth upon her injuries. She then felt her begin to wrap the material about her middle. As a tight knot was tied to hold the bandage in place, Kerrigan felt Wrynn's presence lift from her a bit.

"I apologize that we Protoss do not have healing technologies like Terrans," she stated, "we rely on shielding to keep our bodies safe. Can you stand, young one?"

Young? She was twenty-five, easily an adult by most Terran's planet's standards. This Protoss that stood before her was most likely much older, her mind answered back. She understood that these beings could live for thousands of years.

"Now, we are a little over what you call an 'hour' from one of your worlds. We cannot land you directly on the surface; the Terrans do not take kindly to our race since a new leader has been instated. I think Arcturus was his name."

"Mengsk?" she asked Wrynn, although she did not expect her to know.

A first name was enough; it had to be him.

"I do not know," she answered back, "but, if I may speak freely on the matter, he does not seem a very fair leader."

"No insult there," Sarah retorted, "as far as I'm concerned, he left me for dead on that platform you picked me up on."

A small pause ensued, as if Wrynn was searching for the correct answers to say.

"We will give you one of our escape pods to pilot yourself to the surface," Wrynn finally said, "you can be back with your kind then."

A question suddenly dawned on her.

"Did you ever come in contact with a man named Jim Raynor in your travels across that platform?" Kerrigan asked.

She waited eagerly as the Protoss before her seemed to search her brain for an answer.

"I have not," she said, "as soon as you land, you can begin your search for this Ray-nor."

At this, Wrynn stepped over to a flashing and beeping console in the small room and clicked some lighted buttons and switches. Kerrigan heard her mutter some unknown words, probably some ancient tongue of the Protoss people.

"Now, you must follow," she said while offering a hand.


End file.
